May 2018 * Survived to Thrive by Momma Berna

First Trip and an Ambulance Ride

This past Saturday was supposed to be a nice, quiet day. We went to my aunt’s surprise 70th birthday party, had tons of food and enjoyed some family time. Once home, we all decided to do our own things. Scotty had a birthday party to go to, Vincent was passing time playing video games before he picked up his girlfriend. Armando had gone to see Star Wars:Solo. I decided to clean the closet in the office. I have been in a purging mode lately.

So there I was emptying bags, sorting things out for selling, recycling or trash. I was about to throw out an old box when I felt something in it. It was a piece of medical THC in candy bar form. I would make a sucky addict coz I had completely forgotten about my “stash”. I’ve had some of the candy bar before, but just small pieces and all it did was help me sleep. I had just taken my evening meds, and my dumbass decides to have some “candy”. I have never been high (shocker, right?) so I thought maybe I’ll try a bigger piece (about the size of a Hershey’s square) than I had taken before. It took awhile to kick because I kept cleaning and organizing. Then whoa! The tunnel

*Only a real friend would text something like this.*

vision kicked in. I did not know what was going on, so I sent a friend a text “what does being high feel like?” We texted back and forth, then everything got fuzzy. It was as if I just off a tilt-a-whirl, while blindfolded with sheer gauze and then given a few shots of tequila. I remember going to the kitchen to get water thinking that would help. I started to panic. I was home alone, I remember looking for the rest of the candy bar to show the medics in case I was overdosing (yeah, yeah I know…). I called Armando to ask him to come home. I was scared. All he heard was the slur in my words and he rightfully panicked.

I was fighting hard to stay awake, when the medics rushed in all I heard were “stroke”, “survivor”, “smile for me” “lift your arms”. They were assessing for stroke symptoms. There were so many things happening all at once. I was screaming for Armando, I was screaming for my kids. In the ambulance, one of the medics was inserting an IV line says “this is just a little prick” of course I responded with “that’s what she said”. I truly do not remember the rest of the ambulance ride. I apparently kept saying I was in a time loop or I was detached from my body. I think I said “it’s a good thing I am wearing nice panties.”

In the hospital, They ran me through a CT scan which thankfully did not show a stroke. Armando later told me I was saying stuff like “don’t put me on life support” “this can’t be happening again” and “I’m in a time loop”. I told one of the nurses he looked like Chris Pratt.

At some point, I must’ve told them that I had THC. Armando, understandably was pissed and relieved at the same time. The boys thought it was funny and asked why didn’t I share. My sister was there too. I had just put my family through an ordeal we all just dealt with a few months ago with my mom’s stroke.

I kept going in and out of moments of lucidity. I would close my eyes and wish that when I open them, I would be at home in bed. I remember asking the doctor “this is the real world, right?” A nurse asked me if someone slipped me something at a party. I told him, the party was for my 70 year old Aunt, and we came home at 2 P.M. Reality started to come back, slowly and then with a vengeance. The doctors and hospital staff definitely changed their attitude once they learned I had used pot and not had a stroke. It went from caring and compassion to that of annoyance and irritation. At 4:00 AM, they sent me home.

I feel so much guilt, shame and embarrassment from this whole incident. I have profusely apologized to my family for what I have put them through. I honestly do not think I could apologize enough.

I had high hopes (no pun intended) for pain and spasticity relief through THC. That unfortunate first trip caused me to be put off trying it again.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Disclaimer: This piece is based only from my experience. I neither condone nor condemn the use of marijuana.

Mother’s Day

When my mom passed away, my heart broke and a part of my soul also died with her. This was the this was the first Mother’s Day without my mom. In the past years, my sisters and I would wrack our brains to come up with a “good” present for our mom. We would come up with then reject ideas: money (she’ll just give it away), A nice purse (she has tons of them), a gift card (she has tons of stuff!). We usually end up getting her something impersonal, but felt she needed. A DVD player, Filipino movies etc. This year there was no discussion, no decision to be made. We only had one gift we could get. Flowers for her grave site.

I felt detached from everything this Mother’s Day. My sister and I didn’t even arrange to meet up. I feel that was an unconscious decision for both of us. I know on my part, I was trying to not fall into pieces. When my boys and I went to take flowers to the cemetery, it felt surreal to me. Her name has not been engraved on the headstone yet which made it feel unreal.

I still have moments when I hope that she was only on one of her church group trips. She would go with her Handmaids of the Lord group to different states. During her services, her friends shared that my mother would laugh the loudest in their group. My mom who asked repeatedly how to use “the Facebook” had posted tons of photos from those trips.

I miss her so terribly each day. Little things would remind me of what she did for us. We never had an empty sugar bowl when she was around. She knew what my favorite meals were and she made them so we can eat together. I regret that the last time she made lunch, I had gone somewhere and wasn’t able to get home on time. She called and left me a message saying she already ate coz she got hungry waiting for me.

The boys and I will miss her hot bowl of chicken mami (Filipino chicken noodle soup). That she lovingly prepares for us as a welcome home after we have gone on vacations. She would call to find out how much longer it will take for us to get home so the soup would be nice and hot when we get there.

*At the Sports Center, on a day I was able to drag her out to walk the track with me.*

I did not appreciate many of the things she had done for me. Caring for me after the stroke, worrying about me going up and down the stairs (she always turns on the stairwell light no matter what time of the day it was). One night, I was having a truly bad stomach ache. It was only her and Scotty home with me. I was hurting so much I was screaming. I was not getting relief from any medicines, so she turned to her time tested cure: prayer. She rubbed blessed oil on my back and tummy while saying a prayer. When she walked away to go back to her room, I called her back “mommy” and she came rushing back.

I was not a model daughter. Our relaionship was fraught with disagreements and arguements. I have hurt her feelings many, many times. I have made her cry, many times. I hope she forgives me. I hope that I made her proud.

*My 76 year old mom’s first water log ride. She is seated between Scotty & Vincent.*

I regret that I didn’t hug her more, I regret that I didn’t sit with her at our front porch bench when she hung out there in the mornings. I regret making her sad.

Stroke Walk, Rose Garden San jose, San Jose — *Last year, she joined us at the stroke wal*k.

In Memoriam

Stroke has taken so much from my family. Our lives changed drastically after my stroke in 2014. Things were finally smoothing out for us, until March 12, 2018 when a stroke took away my mom.

My mom’s death was unexpected. She was fine that Saturday March 11th. We sat around the table with my sister eating yummy pastries. She talked about going to Florida to visit her sisters (A and I had already planned on buying her the airfare as a birthday present). My boys and I had gone to a birthday party that evening and when we came home, my mom was telling us how Twinkie kept her company by sitting outside her bedroom door(what she didn’t know was that she was the one making the dog feel safe. Twinkie does not like being alone). As she was getting ready for bed, she reminded me of the time change the next day. She said good night. I said “thank you and I love you”. I don’t often tell her “I love you”, but I am glad that I did that night. She went to bed with a smile on her face.

The next day, everyone had a slow start. We ate breakfast around 11, it wasn’t unusual for my mom not to join us for Sunday breakfast as she watches/attends the Catholic mass on T.V. My husband and I were getting ready to go to the gym when we heard my mom coughing. Her coughing just sounded wrong, it sounded as if she was drowning. We asked Scotty to check on her. He was calling out “Wowa,Wowa” (the kids’ name for their grandma) and he sounded panicked so I rushed over to her room. The second I looked at her I knew she’s had a stroke. She had all the signs. Armando called 911. She wasn’t swallowing her spit, so Scotty propped her up on her side so she does not get water in her lungs.

At the hospital, the CT confirmed the stroke. She was placed in the ICU, we were hanging out with her and relatives visited. My mom was awake and knew where she was, what day it was and recognized the people who visited her. Doctors performed all kinds of tests. We were told she had an ischemic stroke and she was experiencing atrial fibrillation. They were going to keep her in the ICU for observation, but they were cautiously optimistic. That 5 A.M. phone call was a shock that still reverberates through my bones.

My mom lived with my family, so her absence is deeply felt. On one of the days leading up to her funeral, I knocked on her bedroom door before I entered. I was going in there to get the clothes she would be buried in.

On the night of the rosary and vigil, we delivered our eulogies. I kept mine short because I know I would not have been able to keep it together. Here is the eulogy in its entirety.

“Before I begin, I would like to thank everyone who came here tonight. Thank you for your support and for honoring my mom’s memory. I hope you’ve all had a chance to share stories and good memories.

Many if not most of you know of my mom’s generosity. She would give and share until she had little or non left for herself. Her favorite thing to share is her cooking. She would cook enough to feed the neighbors and she did! She cooked for her boys, she knew their favorites and would make it for them if they asked or even if they didn’t.

My mom was also very stubborn. I had asked her to stop doing her apos (grandsons) laundry, but she still did. She also cleaned up after them. It was part of her morning routine to turn off the bathroom lights and the light in Scotty’s room. She would also go in the boys’ room to make their beds, collect any cups or dishes (the boys are not allowed to eat in their rooms, so I think she did this sweep so I won’t yell at the boys.) She also did their chores and gave them money. I guess it is a grandma’s well earned right to spoil their grandchildren. She fed the cat. A lot. She also loved to buy Filipino pastries. I’ve asked her over and over to stop as it is unhealthy. She bought them anyway and we happily ate.

The one quality my mother had that I never appreciated was her strength. In contemplating her life, I now only realized the sacrifices she’s made for my sister and I. In 1989, she gave up her career as a dentist to immigrate to the U.S. Her and my dad gave up the comforts of their lives, friends and jobs so that my sister and I could have a better future. The help of generous relatives helped relieve some of the uncertainty we were facing. My mom secured a job at a semiconductor company where she worked from 6 PM till 6 AM. This job allowed us to move out of my aunt’s house and rent an apartment in Milpitas. My sister and I were both going to school and working, but not once did she ask for our financial help. She even gave me the money for a downpayment for my first car. She never learned how to drive, so when my dad passed in 1996 she not only lost a husband, a best friend and a partner. She also lost her chauffeur. I was starting my own family, so I was not available to drive her around too much. She had to learn how to take the bus. She had just taken the bus to a doctor’s appointment the Friday before she passed. She was giving me lessons on bus routes!

Her true strength came through when I needed her the most. After I had a stroke in 2014, my mother was instrumental in my recovery. I am sure that she never, ever thought that she would have to help her grown daughter use the bathroom. Or that she would have to help me clean up because I did not make it to the bathroom in time. She bathed me as I cried out of humiliation and self-pity. She had to cut up my food, help me get dressed and remind me to exercise. I know it took an incredible amount of strength for her to keep it together as she helped me build myself back up. I will never forget the look of pride she had as she watched me take my first steps. Even as I am fairly recovered, she still hovered over me. She was always hesitant leaving me alone. She would ask what time one of the boys will be home before she leaves the house. She stayed up with me when I was up till late watching T.V or writing. She calls to check up on me when I am out walking alone or when she’s out of the house and no one is home with me. My mommy protected us fiercely. Loved us wholeheartedly. Gave generously. Her life maybe gone, but her presence will always be with us.”

goodby grandma,goodbye mom — **My boys helped carry their Wowa (grandma) to her final resting place.**

It has been a difficult couple of months and I am sure it will not get easier anytime soon.

Much Love,

Momma Berna